


Lonesome

by Blueberryshortcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Bad Dreams, Friendship, Gen, Memories of death of a parent mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Blueberryshortcake
Summary: Caboose wakes up alone one night.





	Lonesome

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've done Caboose goes to Wash for comfort after a bad dream... but that's not gonna stop me from writing another one.

He woke up shaking, pulling air into his lungs. **  
**

And the room he woke up to was dark and empty.

Tucker wasn’t snoring loudly above his head, Agent Washington wasn’t softly illuminated by some work he was doing on his data pad.

Caboose tore the sheets off himself.

“Ch–!”

They were somewhere else. Right. He knew that. Armonia. He was important so he got his own room that he didn’t have to share.

It was good! It was good! Tucker was so noisy, and whiny, and made Agent Washington scream in the morning because he would take all his clothes off in the middle of the night, which was never nice to wake up to.

He rubbed his arm and took a step back toward the bed, but it was so dark in here. And silent and…

He quivered, biting his lip. He reached over to the little bed he had set up for Freckles, but winced, remembering he was sleeping over with Dr. Grey for a check up.

He flipped on the lightswitch.

His room was very empty even though the dark was gone.

Sometimes, like now, when he was alone, and lonely, he could maybe sorta kinda admit that he was jealous of Carolina.

Who was good. And who helped them. And who was their friend, and who he liked a whole whole whole lot, but…

She was Church’s–Epsilon’s best friend.

And he wasn’t.

He fidgeted. Paced.

Finally he opened the door. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe?

He went into the hallway hoping there might be people, but it was dim and empty.

Maybe he was all alone. What if something had happened and everyone had left? He took three giant steps to the door next to his and knocked.

“Tucker?” He asked. “Tucker?!?”

There was no answer. Panic started rising up in his stomach. “Tucker! IF YOU ARE NOT THERE. PLEASE. TELL ME!”

Again, no answer. He furiously tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“TUCKER!” He shouted voice high with panic.

“Caboose?”

Caboose spun around. Agent Washington stood, hair rumpled from sleep in his grey and yellow shirt and sweatpants looking at him in concern.

Tears sprung up in Caboose’s eyes. He sprung wrapping Wash and hugging him tightly.

“H-Hey buddy. What’s the matter?” Wash tapped his back, his voice muffled.

Caboose couldn’t move. He tried to say something, but instead it came out as a sob, and every time he tried to speak his tears would get in the way, so he ended up holding Wash trying to quiet himself down because Agent Washington said they should be quieter when they are indoors and right now they are indoors.

Wash relaxed in his arms, and his arms wrapped around him too. “It’s okay… just… uh… let it out. Did something happen? Did you have a bad dream?”

After awhile Caboose finally choked out, “Dream.”

Wash thumped him reassuringly on the back. “Okay, well, why don’t we go to my room and sit down and maybe uh…” He hesitated. “I mean, you can tell me about it… if you want to.”

Caboose was starting to find it easier to take deep breaths in, and his tears had stopped falling so he nodded in reply. Reluctantly released Wash from the hug, but held his hand because he didn’t want to–he couldn’t be–he just.

“Where’s… Tucker?” He sniffed.

“He went out on a recon mission, remember, buddy?”

“Oh…” Caboose rubbed his eyes furiously with his pajama sleeve. “I forgot.” He let Wash guide him into his room.

He liked Wash’s room a lot better than his room.

Wash’s room was full of stuff.

It wasn’t fun stuff. It was papers and datapads, and gun pieces, and ammo, and Agent Washingtony things, which usually weren’t very fun.

But it was full of stuff. And that was good. Caboose’s room was very empty and he hated it.

Wash sat him down on his narrow bed. It was still warm.

“I woke you up,” Caboose realized miserably. He couldn’t look at Wash without tearing back up at this point so he looked at the modified battle rifle spread out on the scratched up work desk instead.

“That’s okay.”

“It’s NOT!” Caboose yelled. “Because you do not sleep much! And you need to sleep eight hours a day! But you don’t!”

“Uh… I’m not–” Wash didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“IF YOU DON’T SLEEP YOU MIGHT GET SICK.” He was being loud again and Wash was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t–he COULDN’T–

“I promise, I’m sleeping better now,” Wash squeezed his hand, which Caboose suddenly realized he was gripping very hard. He let go and Wash released a breath.

He wiped the tears and snot with his sleeve again.

“You are?”

“Yeah, four solid walls had done a lot of good for me.”

Caboose trembled at that just thinking about it.

“You had a bad dream,” Wash’s voice was a bit firmer now. His less nonsense voice. Caboose was very good at emotional stuff, and Agent Washington was not, but Agent Washington was good at knowing what to do in bad moments.

This was a bad moment.

“Is–did Carolina go with Tucker?”

“Carolina?” Wash asked. “No. Her leg’s still healing… did you… did you maybe want to go talk to Epsilon? I can take you–”

  
“No!”

Caboose crossed his arms defensively. Wash had an uneasy stance, his fingers gripping and releasing the bedding.

“It’s okay if you’re worried about waking them. They won’t mind.”

They won’t mind.

Caboose shook his head again. He was trying hard not to let his emotions bubble over again, which was very unlike him. He was usually so smooth and cool and calm. No wonder Agent Washington seemed worried.

“I know I’m not the person you want to be talking to, but you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

Caboose tried to process this, but Wash wasn’t making any sense. Sometimes he said really weird things. Like that. Just now.

“Who would I want to be talking to?” He asked. He was feeling better. Wash’s room was full, and Wash was beside him trying his best like he always did, and it was not dark, it was full of light, and maybe everything was finer than he had thought it was.

“Epsilon.”

Nope.

Nope nope nope. Things were not fine.

“Oh. Him… no. No. He is not who I would like to talk to right now, I would like to be talking with you right now, Agent Washington.”

“O…kay?”

“I have already talked to Epsilon a lot. I told him all about home, and about the Reds, and about how we’re best fr–other stuff. And he was Church. I told him how he was…”

His vision had gone cloudy again.

The hand on his shoulder was good. And familiar. Agent Washington was better at this than he thought he was.

“What was your bad dream about?” Wash gently pushed.

“Oh… things… and stuff…”

“Was it about… Church?”

“Church? No. Church dreams are good.”

“I’ll… bet.”

“I was dreaming about my Dad. When he died.”

“O–Oh, that’s right, you said you had lost your father.”

“He liked to have fun. He was very happy. He looked like me, very handsome, that is what Mom said. But that night when I went to his room because he hadn’t come to tell us a story he was very still. And Mom was at work. And the room was dark. And quiet. And no one was there.”

He looked down at the ground.

“And I knew he was gone… even though he was still there. He was still in the room with me, but he was gone, and I was alone, even though he was still here.” He looked up, hoping Wash understood, but Wash didn’t say anything.

“When we put him in the ground, Mom explained that that’s how he would meet the angels. We were his angels though, me and my sisters. We were all named after them. So… I didn’t believe much in angels after that, cause Dad wouldn’t leave us for other angels.”

“How old were you?” Wash’s voice was gentle.

“Not very old,” Caboose answered. He held his hand a foot above the bed. “This tall.”

“Not very old at all,” Wash said. “That must have been hard.”

“I miss him,” Caboose said quietly. “But not all the time. Just when something reminds me of him. Before it was all the time, but it was a long time ago.”

“Yeah.. well… that’s… that’s normal.”

“I felt very lonely when I woke up. Because you and Tucker were not with me, and you are always with me.”

“I guess… maybe we’ve all been wrapped up with all the stuff that’s going on. Dreams sometimes use old memories to process stuff that’s going on right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…” Wash seemed very familiar with that stuff.

“Memory is the key,” Caboose mumbled.

Wash snorted. “Yeah. Seems like it.”

Caboose pulled himself farther onto the bed and brought his legs up hugging them to his chest. Agent Washington’s bed was very small, Caboose barely fit.

“So… have you been feeling a bit lonely?”

“I miss Church,” Caboose finally admitted.

Wash smiled. “It usually comes back to him, huh? You should talk to him.”

Caboose shrugged. “I don’t think…that’s quite it…” He sighed. He was tired. He wanted to flop down on Wash’s bed and fall asleep again and not think about these things, because if he thought about them he might have to…

He might have to something. He didn’t know what cause he didn’t want to think about it.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? Agent Washington? I promise I’ll be quiet. I dont’ snore like Tucker does.”

“You do snore like Tucker does,” Wash corrected. “But I don’t know that we can both fit on the bed.”

“Oh.”

“I mean… I guess we can sleep in your room,” Wash didn’t sound happy with that idea.

“No,” Caboose said quickly, because he did not like that idea either. Not without Freckles there.

Wash sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Caboose asked.

“Come on.”

Wash pulled himself up. He grabbed a bag and threw a few of his things into it. “I can get the big stuff later.”

“Right,” Caboose pretended he knew what that meant, although he did not.

“Is there anything unsecure in your room you need?”

“No. Freckles is with Dr. Grey.”

“Okay,” Wash lead him out of the room. They headed down the hallway. Wash stopped in front of a doorway and rapidly knocked.

There was a surprised squawk, and muttering voices, and lots of whiny sounds. Tucker’s son opened the door in confusion.

“Uh–Mr.–Captain–Agent Washington?”

“You’re in luck, Private. You and Bitters are getting your own rooms. Captain Caboose and I will collector our belongings in the morning. But for now, out.”

“Out?” Palomo blinked. He didn’t seem to understand exactly what Wash was saying. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Wash agreed. “Your stuff will be moved tomorrow. Go. Now. YOU TOO BITTERS.”

Bitters moaned unhappily. “Do we have to?”

“You can have your own room if you leave right now, or you can run some laps before morning–”

Caboose blinked. Bitters was already halfway down the hallway before Wash could finish.

“UH! Right! UH! Two seconds sir!” Palomo quickly dove to his bed and shoved some things in a knapsack, one of the things looked to be fluffy and squishy. “Uh, Goodnight sir!–Sirs!” He saluted both of them and ran after Bitters.

“Why are we here?” Caboose asked. But he … he *really* liked this room. It was full of STUFF. And it wasn’t boring Agent Washington stuff, but just… people stuff. And there was a bunk bed, and it reminded him of home… lots of his homes. Because here he would not be alone.

“I’m taking top bunk,” Wash answered clapping him on the shoulder.

Caboose beamed. “We can stay here?!”

“Yeah, is that alright?”

“Yes!” He turned and hugged Wash hard. “Thank you Agent Washington!”

“Crushing my bones, buddy.”

“Sorry,” Caboose smiled and rubbed the back of his head. “I think Freckles will like this room better than the last one. The last one was too big.”

“I’m glad to hear he’ll like it,” Wash threw his backpack up onto the bunk and climbed up to the top. “And… if Freckles does have any problems…”

“Freckles is very smart, he doesn’t have problems very often.”

“That’s true.”

“But he appreciates… that he knows… that he can talk to you.” Caboose flipped off the light and went to his own bed.

“Good. Goodnight Caboose.”

Caboose sighed happily pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Goodnight, Agent Washington.”


End file.
